CHAPTER 4
Rue
Waking up on cold concrete has to be one of the worst feelings in the world. Well, other than knowing the wolves you were falling in love with now hate you and think you’re a spy for the Witches Council when that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth, but eh, spellmantics, yeah?
Concrete has a way of sucking all the warmth out of your body and leaving you feeling like nothing but a husk. Kind of like heartbreak, I guess.
My eyes well with tears as a shiver wracks my body. I do my best to push through the haze clouding my mind and orient myself. I’m still in the same spot I collapsed when the mysterious woman knocked me out. The feral is also where he was, completely unchanged, and still unconscious with the wire around his neck. I’m not sure if that’s more a relief or worrisome.
The woman is nowhere in sight. As my eyes scan the floor, I realize she was smart enough to take her dagger with her. Great.
My attention shifts to the hallway she arrived from as I weigh my odds of escape. This might be my only chance to get out of this place. I could make a run for it, although I’m not sure how far I’ll make it with my knees and shoulder the way they are. But it has to be better than the fate waiting for me in the hands of this woman, right?
Right.
Pushing to my feet takes a monumental amount of effort. My shoulder and knees scream in protest. A plethora of vibrant cuss words want to slip past my lips, but instead I bite them hard enough to draw blood, and keep them to myself. Any noise could alert that woman and send her rushing back to check on me, so I focus all my energy on being as silent as possible.
Each step I take is a careful dance as I take extra care not to make a single sound when all I want to do is scream and cry. I want nothing more than to rage at the world, but I can’t. I have to be my own dashing wolf and get myself out of this mess.
Every step toward the corridor without alerting the mysterious woman feels like a slight victory. Eventually, after what feels like ages, I reach the spot she emerged from earlier. It almost feels too good to be true when I round it and she’s not standing in the entryway.
The problem?
I can’t see a thing. It’s pitch black.
There could be anything lurking in the darkness, and I’d never know. Wouldn’t have a clue until it descended on me.
I have to make a choice. Take the chance to venture into the unknown and maybe escape. Or stay here where someone may or may not kill me.
Yeah. No, thanks.
So I guess not much of a choice.
As I slowly creep into the abyss, I keep my hand against the wall to help orient myself. The roughness of the stone bites against my fingertips, but I don’t care.
Divines, this would be so much easier if only I could see in the dark like other supernaturals. I’d also be mostly healed by now and wouldn’t have to wince and tamp down on each sharp breath that threatens to leave me.
I stumble for what feels like the hundredth time. Moons, I wasn’t built for this. I’m a daydreamer, an artist at best. A part of me wants to give up, to collapse and let whatever fate has in store take me. But I’m not a cat. I don’t have nine lives, and I sure as hex won’t get another chance like the wolves gave me to live.
And above all, that’s what I want. I want to live—to love and draw and see everything. I can’t do that if I don’t push through.
So, I straighten my spine and continue my path into the unknown.
Every few steps, I have to stop and give myself a little mental pep talk to keep going, but I do. I walk for what feels like ages, but without anything to orient myself, there’s no way to know for certain, though it can’t have been long with how slow I’m going.
It’s eerie how quiet this place is, every heavy exhale feels like a cannon going off. My heartbeat roars in my ears. When a rock crunches somewhere in front of me, somewhere close, the hair on the back of my neck rises. I freeze, heart hammering so loud that I’m sure anyone could hear the traitorous, rapid beat.
I’m no longer alone.
A whoosh of air is the only warning I have before someone wraps their arms around me from behind. Terror seizes me as a hand covers my mouth before I can scream. I growl in frustration, except it sounds silly to my own ears instead of ferocious, like I’d intended, especially with something covering my mouth.
I pull in a breath through my nose before preparing to bite the hand, but a whiff of something familiar has me stopping in my tracks. I know that spice. It tangles around me like vines, wrapping me in his essence.
Slade.
“Hello, mon amour,” he murmurs, his voice scarcely a puff of air.
No. It can’t be. Can it?
How?
His eyes glow red in the darkness, and that’s the only confirmation I need as I turn, wrapping my arms around him. He squeezes me tightly, like he never wants to let go. “Shh, I’ve got you, ma chère. I’ve got you,” he repeats, stroking my hair softly, almost reverently.
A sob lodges its way into my throat, but I don’t dare let it out for fear of alerting my captor. “Slade,” I whisper into his chest, brokenly.
“Let’s get you out of here. I’ll worry about ripping apart whoever dared take you from me later, when we can properly bathe in their blood and make love on top of their corpse.”
The steel in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. His words should disgust me, repulse me even, yet I find only a small throb between my legs as all the answer I need on whether I’d like that or not.
For the first time since I was thrown into that van, a spark of relief ignites in my chest like the start of embers under a cauldron; not quite enough to cause a roiling boil yet, but enough to create bubbles.
He picks me up, wrapping me in his arms as he prepares to phase me out, but is stopped in his tracks by a loud hiss, followed by a guttural bellow. The noises resemble more of a wild beast than man, which means the vampire’s awake, and he’s still feral.
I’m guessing it takes more than a few drops to cure someone…
The mysterious woman screams in rage, her voice all too familiar, but distant. Although, it’s hard to tell exactly how far away we are with the echo. Suddenly, the feral’s harsh noises fade and stop altogether. After a pause, she must realize I’m not there. “I’m not in the mood to chase your worthless skin, Rue. Come back now and you’ll suffer less than if I have to find you.”
Slade’s entire body shakes with rage. His eyes cast a red glow in the tunnel as the monster in him rises to the surface. Oh, no. His body shakes with his need to destroy and protect. I need to do something to snap him out of this, and fast. Or else I’m sure he’ll do something reckless and instinctual, like go down there and kill her.
And that’s not the smart thing to do while I’m injured and we don’t know who exactly we’re dealing with. Plus, I know Slade. He’ll rip her throat out without a second thought and I want to know who the smudge sticks she is and how she found out about my blood.
Plus it’ll reveal secrets to him I’m not ready to share. He can’t find out the truth this way. I need to be the one to tell him.
Without allowing myself time to think it through, lest I talk myself out of it, I plant my lips against Slade’s, which are softer than I expect. At first, he freezes and does nothing. I almost pull away, but then he growls into the kiss and takes control. I’m helpless to resist the tide of him as his mouth slides against mine in a blend of passion and promises of more.
When he stops, he places his forehead against mine. Both of us are breathing hard. His eyes open, and they’re still glowing red, but now there’s a smidge of control in them. He readjusts his hold on me.
“Ready?” he asks, voice surprisingly steady and full of promise.
“Yes,” I whisper. There’s a strange sensation at the back of my mind, like his question is deeper than just this moment.
Like the first time Slade phased me into the cabin, it makes me dizzy and disoriented. But I don’t mind; anything is better than staying in this concrete prison. My eyes water from the speed of being carried faster than my witchy body was ever meant to. The sensation has me woozy like I’m riding a roller coaster.
He wouldn’t have to be a coaster for me to ride him though.
“How did you know where I was?” I ask into the crook of his neck, trying to distract myself from the sharp pain throbbing through my body from being jostled around like this. Well, and my lust filled thoughts.
“I recognized it from what you showed me. There aren’t a whole lot of concrete structures in New Orleans.”
Showed? As in, he wasn’t a hallucination? A gasp escapes me. “That was real? I was actually talking to you in my head?”
I mean, I shouldn’t be too shocked after what happened with the mystery woman, but still.
I can almost picture the amused smirk on his face when he answers. “Yes, mon amour. We’re connected, you and I. But let’s resume this conversation later.” His tone is strained. “It’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to turn around and demand the life of your captor. I can smell your blood and fear, and it’s making it worse.”
Every inch of his body is taut with fury, yet his hold on me is so gentle, and so at odds with his nature. Slade rounds a corner, and finally, light appears at the end. I let out a relieved breath that we made it. I’m really getting out of here.
A rage-filled shriek sounds from somewhere behind us, followed by that same rhythmic tapping from before. Hex on a stick, she’s pissed.
Slade, however, seems completely unbothered as he strides out into the wildness of the swamps. There aren’t any defining features I recognize, which means this place is out in the middle of nowhere. He pauses for a moment to get his bearings, and then he’s phasing us away. The world around us is a blur. I can’t make out much of anything but the fall colors of the foliage as he moves.
Instead, I close my eyes and let go, trusting him to get me to safety.
“I’ve got you, little witch. I’ve always got you,” he reassures quietly. I lay my head against his chest and snuggle into him, inhaling his almondy scent. It’s like walking next to one of those booths that sell roasted nuts. I’d love to bottle it and douse myself in it.
“I thought I was dead.” The confession leaves me in a puff of air I didn’t mean to let out.
“You’re safe now. I would never allow that to happen.”
And I believe him. There’s not a lot I’m one hundred percent sure about in this world, but somehow, I know Slade would never let a soul lay a finger on me if he could help it.
A sense of guilt replaces the relief I was starting to feel. Slade came to my rescue. He rushed in without a thought about himself, only a need to keep me safe. And he still has no idea I could be his people’s salvation. I dread to find out what his reaction will be.